Fourth Down (Portland Pioneers 1)

No.

Should I have said it to her in private? Yes.

Should I have waited, I don’t know another hour? Day? Week? Month?

Yes. Yes. Yes.

Do I regret it?

No.

I blurted the statement out without thinking. Call it the heat of the moment or fitting for the situation. I do want Autumn to be my person, but I shouldn’t have said what I did to the people I did because within seconds, my words, in my voice, were all over social media. Unbeknownst to Autumn and me, someone recorded the impromptu autograph session at the pizza parlor and caught the entire exchange. I knew as soon as we got back into her car and my phone lit up, I had made a mistake.

Autumn and I live our lives in the media. More so her than me, it seems, because people really only see me on Sunday or if they happen to catch me out and about. No one is looking for me when they walk down the street or are buying groceries. But Autumn—she’s new in town and like a shiny new toy to people. Her personality is infectious, and everyone seems to love her. Honestly, I was surprised we weren’t stopped more during dinner. I saw people staring and pointing, and it wasn’t at me. Viewers like her. In fact, the station’s ratings are up for her time slot. Leon knew what he was doing when he hired a young, drop-dead gorgeous woman to do the weather. He brought in someone girls could look up to and gave men at home someone to gawk at. I’m just happy she’s interested in me because, like I said, I want her to be my person.

What sucks is our schedules. When she is free, I’m at the practice facility. When she’s working, I’m home. And since I don’t have a live-in nanny, it’s not like I can take the elevator down to Autumn’s floor when she gets home from work or have her come to my place. As much as I’d love to spend some time with her in my apartment, I’m not sure the kids are ready for that. Well, Roxy is. She’s infatuated with Autumn.

On the other hand, Reggie’s had a hard time dealing with his mother having a boyfriend. I don’t want to throw Autumn into the mix and really screw him up. I must tread lightly when it comes to my son, and I’m okay with that.

I rap my knuckles on his door and step in.

He looks up from his phone and quickly slides it under his pillow. My heart drops. There is something on there that he doesn’t want me to see. I hate the fact that he has a phone. He’s eight. He should be reading adventure stories or watching cartoons, not surfing the damn internet. It seems that no matter how many parental apps I put on his phone, he’s found a way to get past them. I blame his mother, and the ever-growing tech world.

I put my hand out in a silent demand for his phone. Slowly, he places it in my hand, and I motion for him to scoot over so I can sit next to him. I type in his passcode, which is my number and the year he was born.

The screen lights up with pictures of Autumn and me, exactly what I didn’t want to see but should’ve realized Reggie would find them sooner or later.

“Is she your girlfriend? Everyone says she is.”

Is she? I don’t even know if a label is needed these days.

“She’s a friend and someone I like.”

“What about mom?”

Weeks ago, I asked my agent to find me a family counselor, someone for the kids and me to speak with. He gave me a few names, but I didn’t do anything with the information.

“Bud—”

Reggie moves away from me and says, “I know, she’s not coming back.” He gets off his bed and goes to the window. “I hate her.”

“Reggie, come on, you shouldn’t say that.”

“Don’t you hate her, Dad? We were a happy family, and she had to ruin it. She has a boyfriend, and now you have a girlfriend. I hate her!”

I’m off the bed in a flash and holding him to my chest. He’s hurting, and I’m adding to the pain because of my big mouth. He has a point, but the last thing I want is for him to bad-mouth his mother or develop negative feelings toward Autumn. Of all the people involved in my messy life, Autumn and the children are the innocent ones. They didn’t ask for any of this.

I’m able to coax Reggie back to his bed, where we sit in silence for a few minutes. There isn’t much I can say about his mom and her life because I don’t know what’s going on in her head. I can only speak for myself.